


Odds and Ends

by runawaynun



Category: The Thick of It (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2020-06-27 22:14:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19798846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runawaynun/pseuds/runawaynun
Summary: Ficlets based on prompts from Tumblr.





	1. A moment’s respite

Nicola sighed when her driver let her out at her blessedly dark house. James was traveling for work and the kids were at her mother’s or God knows where but not here. She was finally home after almost 14 hours in the office.

After she opened the door, she toed off her shoes and almost wept with relief. She stood there, soaking in the silence. She didn’t know what to do with herself until her stomach growled.

She made her way to the kitchen, shedding her blazer and jewelry along the way. There she found some leftover pizza in fridge and poured herself a glass of wine. As the pizza reheated in the microwave, she pulled off her ruined tights and threw them in the bin.

She took the pizza and the wine and padded out to the table in the back garden. The night was beautiful and the cool air felt soothing against her bare legs and shoulders. She sighed and closed her eyes, taking in the night sounds, which included a drunken rendition of a popular song from her uni years somewhere in the neighborhood. She could feel her body relax for the first time in probably years.

Her phone began to vibrate on the table. She had brought it out here without thinking. She let it go to voicemail. It began to buzz again. She opened her eyes and checked who was calling. Malcolm. She could feel her shoulders begin to tighten up.

She then may have made the fastest decision in her life. "Fuck him,“ she muttered as she threw the phone into the darkness of her garden. She knew it was only a temporary reprieve and tomorrow she’d have to frantically find her phone, if Malcolm didn’t find her first. But as she sunk back into the chair, she found she really didn’t fucking care at the moment.


	2. Things you said when you were drunk

It was a fucking awful day for the Opposition and for once, it had mostly not been Nicola’s fault. It was the sheer lack of numbers, with no way to stop the Government from cutting away the safety net. And Nicola, for all her idiotic vanity, genuinely did care about how this was going to destroy lives. Not that she could fucking express her grief and rage in a way that didn’t make her look like a fucking lobotomized guppy.

He noticed the lights still on in her office. He rubbed his face. Sometimes, he wished she had competent or loyal advisors, who would have made sure she had gone home hours ago, even if they had to hog tie her and bundle her into her car.

He found her with her head on her desk, a glass of whiskey next to her. Judging by the level of the bottle, it was not her first. He sighed. "Nic'la -”

Her head snapped up. "What the fuck do you want, Malcolm? Anything you could tell me, I’ve already told myself.”

“Just making sure you hadn’t offed yourself.”

She laughed bitterly. "Thought about it. Figured I’d fuck it up and the papers would do that smarmy concern thing, y'know, think of the children!” She finished the whiskey in her glass.

“Nic'la, you’re drunk.”

She spun in her chair towards him and shot him finger guns. “Brilliant observation. Must be why I keep you around. It’s not because you can stop the fucking death march that this Government is.”

“I’m no fucking miracle worker.”

She tipped backward in her chair. "That wasn’t fair of me. I’m - “ She overtipped and crashed to the floor. "Fuck. I can’t even sit without fucking it up.” And with that, she burst into tears.

He really hated when she did that. He was never sure what to do and was a little disgusted with himself that her tears affected him that way. He grabbed some tissues off her desk and knelt down next to her. "Go home, Nic'la. You can do fuck all tonight.”

She nodded and sniffed. Before he could stop her, she leaned into him and buried her face into the curve of his neck. He could smell the alcohol on her. He gingerly rubbed her back until her breathing calmed down and he no longer felt tears.

She leaned away from him and he helped her get onto her feet. She swayed and eventually, they discovered that if she leaned against him and he held onto her waist, they could stagger their way out her office. She looked up at him. “You’re not always a bastard, Malcolm. It’s nice.”

“Yeah, well, don’t tell anyone.” 

He helped her get into the back of her car. As she reached for the door, she looked up at him. "I think I’d like to fuck you. But only if I could gag you.” She nodded and shut the door.

As he watched the tail lights of her car pull away, he had no fucking clue what to do with that piece of information. For as much as he wanted to forget it, he knew he’d remember it in his empty home.


	3. “I never meant to fall in love with you, I just did.”

The first time she and Malcolm fucked was after her speech at the party conference in Eastbourne. He in that tuxedo and in the toilet of his hotel room. It had seemed like it was less real, with more deniability if they didn’t use the bed.

The second was at the DoSAC party. She blamed the copious amount of mojitos she drank. He fucked her over a table in a spare room and held his hand over her mouth when she came.

The third happened during the brief time Steve Fleming banished him from Number 10. She had brought him food to check on him and they ended up fucking against a wall. He kept repeating “Why. didn’t. you. say. something?” as he thrust into her. She could only shake her head and moan in response.

The fourth time was a turning point. It was in his bed the night after the party lost the General Election. She had hurried from her constituency and it was slow and mournful. She wiped away his tears afterwards as he had mourned the loss of the only thing he had ever loved.

She lost track afterwards. When she was made Opposition Leader, when he was mad at her fuck ups, when she was anxious and didn’t want to think of the next day, when there was despair for the future, when there were brief victories, when he was bored and his life seemed like a wasteland, when she mad at James, when they wanted each other, when they hated each other, when they were tired and wanted comfort.

The last time had been the night before he put her on that damn train. She should have known something was amiss when he kept looking at her with a sad smile as he made her come again and again, until she finally told him she needed to sleep if she was going to catch a train in the morning.

All of this came flooding back years later as she was helping Ella move in at university and had heard a familiar “Hey, Nic'la,” as she and Ella made her way across the green.

She tried to show no emotion as she turned toward him. “Malcolm. What are you doing here?”

“I have one of those guest lector things for the semester.”

“Ah. Good for you,” she said, turning away from him.

“Wait,” he said, as he put a hand on her shoulder and then quickly pulled it away. “I’d like to talk to you. Would you like to get a coffee or something.”

“I’m here with Ella, so - ” 

She could see Ella struggle with wanting to protect her mum from this man who had caused so much pain in her life and wanting to finally get away from her mum and be on her own. “If you want to go, Mum, you can. Otherwise, I’ll be fine on my own.”

Nicola took a deep breath. “Go on, El. I’ll take you to dinner later and say a proper goodbye then.”

Ella beamed at her and left.

“It looks like she turned out well,” Malcolm said.

“No thanks to you,” Nicola replied.

The two made their way a coffee house close to campus. Malcolm led her towards semi-private table with their drinks. “So. What do you need to say to me?” Nicola asked coldly.

“I wanted to say that I’m sorry for the pain I caused you.”

“Well, you’re a few fucking years late on that Malcolm. But thank you. Can I go now?” She started to gather her things to leave.

“Nicola, fucking wait.”

She paused. “Yes?”

“I need to tell you. I never meant to fall in love with you, I just did.”

She burst out laughing. There he was. Playing his stupid fucking mind games again. But when she looked at him again, he was still looking at her seriously, with the expression he would use when he wanted when he wanted to convince her of something. “Wait, you’re serious?”

He nodded. “I still am.”

She hated him. She hated the tears of outrage gathering in her eyes. She hated the part of herself that still loved him too and wanted to forgive him. “You hurt me, Malcolm. I felt like you had taken a knife to my chest and tore out my heart and pissed on it. I can’t just forgive you and welcome back into my life.”

“I understand.”

“And I’m so mad at you right now. I’ve licked my wounds and moved on and now here you are dredging up all this shit again.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll leave.”

“Wait. Give me your card.”

He smiled and gave her one.

“Don’t think that this means we are anywhere right. I still am leaning toward never seeing you again. Don’t think that this means I’m going to fall back in bed with you.” She put the card in her purse.

He nodded.

“Now go away, please.” 

“It was good to see you, Nic'la,” he said gently as he left.

She wiped at her eyes and stared out the window, not really seeing anything. And she knew, she knew that she was going to eventually break down and ring him. Fuck.


	4. A fierce kiss that ends with a bite on the lip, soothing it with a lick

She can’t even remember what the argument was about. All she knows is that they were arguing about something in his office at Number Ten. And it had been a horrible day. Ollie was a complete twat, she had tripped on the way up the stairs and her knees were all scraped up and her stockings laddered and she had no extras, she had given a quote to the press about the PMs flailing campaign while having lipstick on her teeth, she hadn’t eaten since lunch and now she had been called into Macolm’s office to be blocked about something. It was apparently important but she couldn’t bring herself to care. She wanted to go home, take off her bra, put on comfortable clothes, pour herself a drink and fall asleep on the couch.

Apparently, she was not paying enough attention. He came out from behind his desk and leaned in close to her face. She wished she could pay attention so she could get this over with. But it was like listening to Charlie Brown’s teacher, except with the “wah wah wahs,” she heard “fuck fuck fuck.” 

She just wanted him to stop. So she reached out and grabbed his tie, pulled him down and kissed him. And he finally fucking stopped. Talking at least. He was kissing her and it was good? It was fierce. It was almost like arguing with him but instead of words, they used lips and tongues and teeth. Eventually, she bit down on his lower lip and then hearing his moan, she licked his lip to soothe it.

And something about the way he moaned or her brain had finally fucking caught up with her body or something brought her out of the haze she had been in since he opened his mouth. And fuck, she had just kissed Malcolm. And fuck he had kissed her back. And fuck this had absolutely made this the worst day of her life. She pulled away. “Fuck!” she said, backing away from him.

“Nic’la -" he said.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” she kept repeating as she picked up her dispatch boxes and ran out of his office.


	5. A chaste kiss given to each other because they are in mixed company

Nicola was not expecting to wake up to Ella standing over her bed, saying “Boo, you whore.” Luckily, she was only quoting that movie about mean American girls. She hoped. Although, she never wanted her children to find out about Malcolm by them walking into her bedroom and seeing both of them.

Nicola panicked and grabbed the sheet to cover herself. Oh Christ, the therapy bills for this were going to be massive, for both her and her children. “Fuck!” she yelled before she could stop herself. Now that she stopped scrambling, she saw that it was definitely only Ella in the room. She grabbed a pillow and threw it over Malcolm.

Ella still stood there, her arms crossed. At least she didn’t look too traumatized? “At least one of us had a fun weekend, mum.”

Malcolm was slowly waking up. For fuck’s sake, she’d have thought his time when he could hear a reporter just thinking about a negative headline would make him wake up faster, but apparently his time away from politics had slowed his senses. Or hearing his chuckle, he found humor in her situation. 

“I thought you were at your father’s for the weekend.”

“Obviously.”

Nicola pursed her lips. “What happened?”

Ella shrugged. “Dad woke us up this morning and brought us here. I guess he didn’t plan on you getting some.”

She shouldn’t blush when her own teenage daughter referred to her sex life, but here she was. “Erm, I - “

“Mum, when were you going to tell us?”

“I don’t know! This is all very new!”

“Ben and Rosie are downstairs, waiting for breakfast. Guess you have to tell us now.” Ella stomped out of the room. Yep, large therapy bills.

Malcolm reached out and rubbed her back. “You were some help,” she scolded him.

“You told me when this started you wanted to handle your fucking family.”

She covered her face with her hands. “I did, didn’t I? How fucking stupid am I? Don’t answer that.”

He sat up. “Look, Nic’la, I’m no fucking time traveler. We’ll have to go down there. I’ll make my fucking amazing pancakes and you’ll explain.” He kissed her, long and slow, and oh if he had figured this when she was opposition leader, she probably would have done anything he asked. She can’t decide if that was a good or bad thing.

And that’s what they did. They dressed and went down to the kitchen together. Malcolm cooked and she explained why he was there. “So, Malcolm’s your boyfriend?” Ben asked.

“I - “ She didn’t know what to fucking call him. 

Luckily, Malcolm saved her when he brought the pancakes to table. “Yeah, I’m your mum’s boyfriend.” He leaned down and gave Nicola a short kiss on the lips.

“Ewwwwwwww,” the children exclaimed. Large therapy bills. Very large.


End file.
